Daily Limerick
Archives: October 2005

Contains Mature (and immature) Content;If You’re a Minor, Go Away!


NOTE: DL has not yet taken the time to put "anchors" into the archives. Translation: You're gonna have to scroll all the way through the long-ass documents (use your "find" commands, squatlicks)!



A man rolled his sexual dice

with an Asian chick who seemed nice.

Her blowjob he savored;

and, matching the favor

ate bush with side order of rice.




“Kate Moss Checks Into Whitney Houston’s Rehab Center”

Actually, that’s a bit misleading. Moss checked into the same rehab center that Whitney Houston once did. Or twice did. Or…whatever number she’s up to now.

Nonetheless, “Whitney Houston’s Rehab Center” is a rather amusing concept.

Moss’ stay will reportedly cost $40,000. Expensive for a rehab, perhaps, but like any ol’ addiction “treatment,” worth every penny if you want the intended results--to appear serious about changing your life before going right back to your beloved addiction…



Revealing the way she fights flab

Kate Moss heads to cokin’ rehab--

same one as Whit Houston

which gives quite a boostin’

to relapsin’, for quite a tab!




October 19th is National Salisbury Steak Day!…


“Watching TV Can Lead Kids to Obesity, Study Says”

Thanks, professional studiers of things, thanks a lot…

Upcoming literary event advertised in the latest Chicago Reader:

Therapist Dale Suderman ponders the question, “Should Men’s Studies Exist?”

I’ll save them all some time and answer this tough, intricate question:




A Wall Street Journal study/survey/poll/whatever-the-hell finds that 51 percent of people on that National Do Not Call List are still getting telemarketing calls.

You may or may not recall that Congress saw the List as important enough to allocate something like $1 million toward.

Glad to see that, since they didn’t see things like, oh, say, New Orleans levees as worthy of our tax dollars, the money is going toward something useful…




(Touching in some manner, anyway)

TODAY'S EDITION: The Time I Punched My Dad

Haven’t I told you, time and again, that White Trash is part of my ethnicity?

Actually, this incident is not as White Trashy as the title may make it seem.

I was playing Underdog vs. The Giant Clam with my dad--some time in grade school, mind you; I haven’t played the game in a while--and dad pinned me down and was tickling me. Now, I trust that most of you know the feeling of being backed into a tickle corner.

I couldn’t move, the tickling was urging my instincts to do something, anything to get out of the situation and… I hauled off and punched my dad. Right in the snotlocker (as he often called it).

It worked. He stopped tickling me. In fact, he stood up and held his nose in pain. I felt bad--at the same time I felt it wasn’t entirely my fault. Instinct and all.

But I felt a little cool, too. I actually punched my dad and it wasn’t a mere “shake-it-off-in-a-second” little kid punch!

In any event, that was it for Underdog vs. The Giant Clam that day.






TODAY'S POEM: Along the tips of mine

I didn't mind missing the end of the movie.

You were warm against me, asleep. I could feel

the sleepy ease of your contentment welling up,

an undercurrent of displacement rising with it.

I wanted to kiss you so that your thoughts

would return to happiness, but afraid of waking you,

I stroked your fingers along the tips of mine.

While the movie played its last scenes,

I fell obliviously asleep with my glasses still on.

I woke to the credits and shut down the screen.

Stem of a flower against the soft soil,

I cradled you until time broke our shape.

Now home, you are still warm.

And we are both awake.

[If you'd like to physically thank or berate the poet, e-mail him at b_squirrel@hotmail.com. He won't bite--although he may chew a bit.]



In response to yesterday’s Cheezy Saturday Limerick, which had an, er, “ethnic” theme (see the Archives, screwtoads):

> aw yea, i love spicy asian poontang!!! especially with a side of brown rice.



BROWN rice? I always get WHITE rice with my orders! Unless I order fried rice, although sometimes I prefer an eggroll or something.

Come to think of it, if er, Asian poontang is involved, I already have an eggroll! (Ba-dum ching!) It’s more like a spring roll, actually… Hmmm.

Let’s stop this before it gets ugly.

Or before it gets uglier, anyway.



Katrina brought some criticism

of Red Cross, for response decisions

but they get much slack

for who can attack

lacking the Dem-GOP schism?



So, Paris Hilton and…the other Paris have called off their wedding.

Take a nanosecond to absorb the shock.

Well, I guess they’ll each always have… Too easy.

And, given the circumstances, not true, either…

In Chicago, New Orleans evacuees (no word on whether the “e-word’s” acceptable to Jesse) have been, er, “treated” with free tickets to the local Ashlee Simpson concert.

I guess the idea is to help divert their attention from the physical disaster with our raging cultural disaster.



By David Sher

TODAY'S HAIKU: Dairy Haiku

A nervous titter:

One who shows anxiety

When milking a cow

[If you'd like to contact the Haiku Doctor, e-mail him at davew9lya@juno.com.]



So Paris has called off her wedding

(and, ’cross the land, losers are fretting).

I guess she found out

what marriage is ’bout--

no new men can cum soak her bedding!



Concerning today’s Limerick, I think a clarification is in order.

Previously, S&Y waxed all excited about the prospect of the Paris Hilton sex video. Or one of ’em--when it first hit the news.

Although I might, er, enjoy said video were I to stumble upon it without going out of my way whatsoever, I would not “do” Paris. Well, I’d do her in the colloquial way--meaning her face is not altogether hideous, despite its Cabbage Patch Doll-esque nature, and her body is decent. But in all seriousness, were she ever up for such an act with me--if, say, half my brain were sucked out and I inherited a zillion bucks--I would turn her down.

Oh, there’s the argument that I could nail her and dump her, pull a Dirty Sanchez, what have you. But as the walking embodiment of any reason for pondering, “Maybe Osama has a point about America…” I could not engage in sexual relations with that woman.

Wouldn’t want to unwittingly cause that walking-talking hunk of trash the teensiest bit of pleasure…

Seattle, known as a stronghold of New Liberalism, is performing legal aerobics to craft some plan to ban lap dances, one that will pass constitutional muster.

With liberals like that, who needs to be in bed with the Christian Right?…


“Lead Content Spurs Recall of Disney Bracelets”

He hee.

Just think on that a bit. Nothing like accidental metaphor…

Speaking of the conglomeratization of culture, Alice Walton, of Wal-Mart heiress fame, is planning to open a gallery, Crystal Bridges, as a project of the Wal-Mart Foundation.

What the hell--it's not like I can get much more jaded! Bring on the MTV of visual art (it’ll virtually stop dwelling on the art itself eventually, anyway)…

The Chicago Sun-Times ran a story yesterday with the phrase/identifier: “Funnyman Jim Belushi.”

There better be a retraction…

First-round Chicago White Sox playoff games will be shown exclusively on ESPN. As of writing this, anyway. It could change.

I think I’ve blathered about something similar in S&Y before, but, despite the fact that cable TV is now the rule more than the exception, and growing more so every day, this doesn’t sit right with me.

Who are Sox execs consulting on this stuff? The NHL?…

By the way, how ’bout those Cubs, huh?



Seattle’s Lib’ral Elite fancy

leads them to try banning lap dancing.

Who needs Christian Right

in “Culture War” fight

with ’round Constitution Lib dancing?



Snippet from a news story on Bush Supreme Court nominee Harriet Miers:

“A longtime loyalist without experience as a judge or publicly known views on abortion.”


It’s okay for a judge to lack publicly known views.

Unless, of course, they concern abortion.

There’s really nothing else in America to worry about anymore, you know.



Today’s Awardee: The Knicks’ Eddy Curry

We normally wouldn’t care about NBA player Eddy Curry, formerly of the Chicago Bulls, whose suck-ass ’round .500 season last year almost netted them a playoff spot, which is part of the reason we also generally ignore the NBA, except as a source of crime and sleaze coming from its role models… Ahem.

But Curry ended up in a strange situation while with the Bulls. Having had some health problems, the team was requiring him to take DNA tests, so as to determine his future worth as a commodity…er, player.

Curry balked, did some talkin’ with his agent, and instead got himself acquired by the New York Knicks, who aren’t asking DNA tests of him.

Cheers and all that crap, Curry, for your actions! Take this Award with pride!

There’s a bit more to the story than this, of course. But that’s the Meat that Matters. And about all the time I can devote to the playoff-addicted NBA. However, the Meat of import to most anybody in the working world.

Temporary victory, I unfortunately believe. And despite this victory, and one kick-ass award, Curry was uncomfortably close to performing the ultimate (so far) in “taking one for the team.”



TODAY'S EDITION: The Useless Dunkin' Donuts

There is a Dunkin’ Donuts in my neighborhood. I am not a huge fan of Dunkin’ Donuts, but they do have those cheap breakfast snackwiches now and it’s one of the few establishments open in the wee hours that I pass returning from shows. And it’s only in the wee hours I patronize it.

Like most Dunkin’ Donuts during the wee hours, it is a colorful place. My neighborhood edition happens to boast a large transvestite showing most nights…but that’s beside the point.

The last few times I stopped in, I’ve encountered low staffing--excusable given the hour--and raging incompetence. I’ve been so hungry that Sally Struthers has considered taking up my cause and… I wait…and wait…and wait. And then I wait some more.

And then I leave.

Still hungry, mind you. The place is hopeless at that hour.

Thus, despite the culinary treasures it bears, the nearby Dunkin’ Donuts is useless to me.

Do you feel my pain?



The Gallery World sees new start--

soon one comes, conceived by Wal-Mart.

Sad, I’m hardly bummin’;

been such long time comin’--

the Disneyfication of Art.



Headline, pertaining to this “bird flu” that’s allegedly going to kill us all, at least according to people who’s jobs depend on alarming the public with at least semi-regularity:

“Bush: If Bird Flu Hits, I May Call in Troops”

Now, Georgie. The flu is carried by germs, which are microscopic and thus hard to hit with bullets and missiles.


Ah, the age we live in! How often do we find ourselves asking, “Is it reality--or a Monty Python sketch?”…

Hollywood is just now coming out with a movie on Ernest Hemingway called “Papa.”

Hey. Cut ’em some slack. This required some thinking outside the cliche box, as nobody had previously done a “Papa” for Tinseltown to remake…

Bug-eyed celebrity kook Jennifer Willibanks, aka “the Runaway Bride,” will be, er, running in the Chicago Marathon.

Alright, alright. Who’s the stand-up comic that weaseled in as her press agent?



In reply to yesterday’s special “Eat It!” food section:

> You're not missing much when it comes to Dunkin Donuts. One of the two times

> I ever sick from eggs was at Dunkin Donuts. (the other time was at McDonald's,

> but you'd almost expect that)

Thanks for the heads up. But I know all too well the dangers of a fast food, mass-produced, heavily processed egg sandwich, made by some surly schmo at 2 a.m., no less.

And as a consenting adult, I choose to take that risk.

Although some big city alderman is undoubtedly pondering a way to criminalize it, as we dally…



Bulls wanted to test Eddie Curry’s

damn DNA, so in a hurry

he found ’nother team--

but Employer ream

will soon hit us Joes with a flurry.



PETA has its unwashed panties in a bunch over some events at a school in Federal Way, Washington.

It seems that two students, in fulfilling some sort of student council campaign promise, swallowed live goldfish as part of their election victory celebration.

I’m outraged myself.

They could’ve easily fried them up first, with minimal effort and some panko flour.

Damn kids today…


“Family’s Suit Seeks Answers in Deadly Hang-Gliding Crash”

Well, I’ve got their answers:

The wahoo went HANG-GLIDING! Now, a “Deadly Ballroom Dance Class” would be another matter…



TODAY'S EDITION: Bach, Beethoven and…

Brahms sucks ass.

Well, perhaps he doesn’t quite suck ass. But when folks mention the three Bs of Classical Music--of which only one, Beethoven, is of the Classical period proper, the others being from the Baroque and Romantic, respectively--well... Brahms was just a neo-classicist. He didn’t do dick to usher in the Romantic period--although Beethoven was on the border, effectively ushering in the Romantic.

Berlioz should rightfully be the Third B. I could point to many of his accomplishments, but the major one, of course, would be his “Symphony Fantastique.” He said, “to hell with ritualistic, meaningless tradition” and added a fifth movement. He upped the number of strings and such to produce the loudest damn symphony yet. The recurring melody around which the symphony revolves, signaling the entrance of the love interest or at least the hero’s thoughts of her, was pioneering in the field of “word painting”--that is, you can follow the story through the instrumentation alone.

Oh, I could go on and on.

Point is… Well, Brahms? My ass!



There once was a lonely ol’ felon

who lusted for groc’ry clerk Ellen

who worked in produce;

he’d eye her caboose

while longingly thumping the melons.



To add a little something to the debate between 100 percent, tight-assed atheists and nutrods employing Olympic-level word twisting by frothing and drooling about “intelligent design”:

God is quite obviously a Darwinist.



The argument’s missing the gist:

Ev’lution or might God’s fist?

Intell’gent Design

fits “faith” and science fine--

it’s clear that God’s a Darwinist.



Have you seen the recent television commercials for the American Medical Association? Apparently, some campaign to make sure people know that doctors are there to help them? That doctors save lives? Yadda freakin’ blah blah?


Why do you think doctors feel like they have to do this? Isn’t this the type of thing that’s done by, say, an oil company like, say, Exxon, for some sort of hideous, horrible accident like, say, the Exxon Valdez?

Otherwise, don’t people tend to trust doctors in general? I mean, it’s not like you see commercials reminding people that, say, priests are good folks, do you? Er… That would actually make sense, come to think of it.

But the AMA?

Hmmm, indeed…

Mini headline:

“McDonald’s closes Jamaican outlets”

Damn. Those McBlunts sure went well with a Happy Meal…

The Chicago Transit Authority, the Windy City’s source of public buses and trains/subways, is considering hiking the fare--but only for those still paying cash. Those not with the system of touch cards now implemented, with which your cash is effectively insured if lost and are the only way to still cash in on the traditional $1 added per $10 put on a card (making $10 worth $11, if I’m having trouble splainin’ myself here).

Now, there will be ballyhooing. “This discriminates against the poor!”

But that ballyhooing is poppycocking. You needn’t buy a “Chicago Card” with a credit card--although you can online (and it seems they’ll give pretty much anybody a credit card now anyway, especially knowing the Bush Bankruptcy Bill is about to kick in). S you just need get yourself to a CTA office, buy the card, and charge it up at train stations from then out--with cash.

As mentioned in S&Y before, those paying with cash and change slow down the system anyway, effectively negating the “touch and go” benefit the rest of us have sought out. So I say: Penalize ’em.

It’s not discriminating against the poor. It’s discriminating against the stupid.

And that’s the only thing that there’s just too little of…

Oh, and get this: Only 9 percent of CTA riders actually use these cards. Which save one much money, especially if you take public trans every workday.

Nine percent.

Still questioning S&Y’s assertion of the existence of a Moron Majority, are ya’?…

Speaking of morons, Jacquelyn Sherman of Opelousas, Louisiana was broke and destitute. She was stricken by… Well, you may have heard of something happening down Louisiana way recently, I suppose.

So broke and destitute Jackie does the intelligent thing with the little money she’d left.

Plays the slot machines.

Wins $1.6 million.

A relative said, of the incident, “God works in mysterious ways.”

Now, I myself don’t believe a fire and brimstone, punishment-left-and-right God. I’m not even entirely sure he’d/she’d/it’d reward good and/or smart behavior.

But I’m pretty damn sure God wouldn’t reward moronity…

U.S. Rep. Danny Davis (D-Ill.) is pushing the Second Chance Act, which would allow those recently released from prison with drug problems to utilize faith-based recovery/halfway houses on the government dole.

Faith-based recovery. Because the 12-Step Cult o‘ the Higher Power isn’t faith-based enough.

And wherein, based on statistics nobody likes to talk much about, God apparently fails many--but in mysterious ways, of course…

Read an AP story this weekend about how musical artists today shy away from political messages because they don’t sell as much crap…er, because the “climate isn’t the same as it was in the ’60s and ’70s.

Corporate shills…Er, musical artists quoted of this position included Alicia Keyes and Fiona Apple.

Referring to the Dixie Chicks/Dubya incident, Apple is quoted as saying, “Look at what happens when people get up on pedestals and talk about politics.”

Aw. Poowr widdle awtists have to put up with harsh widdle words.

Um, Fiona? Look what happens when people DON’T.




(Touching in some manner, anyway)

TODAY'S EDITION: Playin’ the Bachelor Party

In a former life, I was a musician.

I’m not gettin' all Shirley McClain fruitcake on your ass. I suppose what I mean to say is that many moons ago, I was seriously pursuing music as a career.

It was mostly ugly, of course. Bad, metal cover bands in high school, waxing to a bit better in college (as my tastes branched out into ’60s stuff, Pink Floyd, etc.)--spoiled, ambition-wise, by too much partyin’ and equally slackerific band mates.

Nonetheless, I think I became pretty good, as a bass player/singer/songwriter, but I’m starting to digress.

Due to a drop in grades, made all the more sinister by the aforementioned penchant for partyin’, my parents yanked the college money after three semesters.

I moved back with the Ps, exited from a regular “any buzz’ll do” kinda habit onto the road to a serious drinking problem, cut my hair and started looking for work and, well, in general, was, depression-level  speaking, at the high point of my life.

Right after moving back, just adjusting to a knee-to-the-nuts life change… Somebody somehow referred me to this guy, Greg, who looked like David Lee Roth and was putting together a band to play a friend’s bachelor party, which was happening at this rural dive bar. So I jumped in to do it.

Now, the story so far might set the stage nicely for a sleazy tale of excitement, under other circumstances. But I remember the gig--standing there, playing the bad cover tunes, unbelievably conscious of my new, non-cool haircut--not to mention my life hitching a ride with the Tidy Bowl Man--and I distinctly remember feeling kinda lame.

Plus, contrary to my naive optimism, I didn’t get any special treatment from the stripper.

Afterward, I went to the bar basement to get some equipment or some such and, spying some tell-tale boxes, went lookin’ to swipe some sort of liquor. All I could find was some root beer schnapps. Which made for an ugly drunk, followed by an ugly hangover, all wrapped up in the general ugly feeling of realizing I’d stooped to purloining bar booze, in turn wrapped up in the ugliness of my overall life at the time.

Hey. Sometimes you gotta travel the gutter down ol‘ memory lane, too.






TODAY'S POEM: Chosen words for chosen spaces

Poetry is a gluttonous liar.

He consumes emotion and approximates revelation

across a canvas of what he considers to be

hammered gold and railroad tracks.

Each chosen word furthers the alchemy.

A war becomes a postcard, written over

with narcissistic, unschooled diatribes

that rearrange the chaos of the aftermath

into sheets of wallpaper ready to be glued up.

A heavy, sweaty act, to get that paper aligned,

to ensure it stays seated where it hangs.

Love, like other wars, bears the usual imprints

of homogenization and simplification,

written down and condensed for the greatest appeal of living.

When did birds become the caregivers of human frailty

and an unguent for our passion? My muscles are tired, and I

am tired. Poetry is on a throne of napkins and plastic

rings. He's looking over his kingdom, writing

an entry about the clean, halting angles of the gates.

I'm waiting outside them, waiting with you. He's not opening up.

Let's move on to other sights. Let's write away from here.

[If you'd like to physically thank or berate the poet, e-mail him at b_squirrel@hotmail.com. He won't bite--although he may chew a bit.]


DAILY LIMERICK 10/10/2005:

So the AMA’s running ads

to teach us that doctors ain’t bad

hmm… Us’lly a group

runs PSAs to

divert us from kick in the ’nads.


SLAPPIN' AND YAPPIN' 10/10/2005:

Unlike most, I’m not upset at Boy George for getting caught with cocaine.

I’m more upset at the knucklehead for leaving a pile of coke out after calling in the phony burglary.

Then again, maybe he’s NOT such a knucklehead.

It DID manage to get his name in the news for a change.



By David Sher

TODAY'S HAIKU: Philosophical Haiku

A clear conscience is

Definitely a sign of

Failing memory

[If you'd like to contact the Haiku Doctor, e-mail him at davew9lya@juno.com.]


DAILY LIMERICK 10/11/2005:

Diverted in finding Bin Laden--

hell, we’d cream jeans if we could spot ’em--

quake hits Pakistan;

hope it got The Man

so we’d shamelessly claim “we got ’em!”


SLAPPIN' AND YAPPIN' 10/11/2005:

Just read today that the FBI considers prospective employees who have smoked marijuana in the past--as long as it wasn’t in the past three years and it was no more than 15 times.

Not sure how they arrived at that number, but 16 times and you’re out.

I may still qualify for an FBI job. Considering all circumstances, August 1986 to about June of 1988 should rightfully count as one high.


DAILY LIMERICK 10/12/2005:

U.S. has exported Bad Tube

and blubber to non-Third-World rubes.

But McD’s mistake-a

closed stores in Jamaica

so we’ll no longer have “McDoob.”


SLAPPIN' AND YAPPIN' 10/12/2005:

Prepare: Next Wednesday, October 19 is National Salisbury Steak Day!…

A movement is growing amid some in the Democratic Party to prompt a presidential run by… Al Gore?


I suppose some think he could improve upon his last run. For instance, instead of distancing himself from Clinton, the most popular president in recent history, perhaps this time he’ll purposefully distance himself from the likes of Kennedy and FDR…

Speaking of Great Moments in Boneheadism, Time Out Chicago--itself a boneheaded foray as a magazine charging $2.50 and containing the same entertainment listings found in multiple other free local sources --is proving to have even worse fashion sense than the Chief Limericist here. And that’s saying something.

Time Out Chicago is recommending a line of socks meant to be worn with flip-flops.

And perhaps preparing to endorse Al Gore with the new Time Out Washington D.C.



TODAY'S EDITION: Cheetos of Destiny

My grocery store has an annoying regular promotion called the “Extreme Value.” Each checkout clerk is thus forced to ask if you’d like whatever crap they’re peddling each week of each customer.

Recently, I went to the photo/tobacco counter first, to get some cigars, paid for the purchase and received a coupon for $5 off any grocery order above $50. The coupon would expire before my next trip, but I still had groceries to buy.

However, my grocery purchase came up $49.99.

And then I was asked if I’d like the Extreme Value. Which happened to be a choice of snack bags, including Cheetos.

I thus bought a bag of Cheetos, went slightly over $50 and was able to use the coupon.

Thus… Well, Cheetos of Destiny.


DAILY LIMERICK 10/13/2005:

“They” say that this Asian Bird Flu

will nail us like Plague, through and through,

but bird-geek science louts

have said that about

each bird sneeze--so threat?--folks poo-poo.


SLAPPIN' AND YAPPIN' 10/13/2005:

Prepare: Wednesday, October 19 is National Salisbury Steak Day!…

So it turns out the New York City subway bombing plot was all a big hoax.

Some are surprised that mayor Michael Bloomberg fell for it.

Not sure why. He’s fell for ’em before, starting with the “secondhand smoke” one…

Quote-of-the-Day thingie from an advice column:

“Cuddling with teenage relatives is usually inappropriate for everyone involved”

It’s expert advice like this that nets ’em the big journalistic bucks--not to mention the justification for wasting ink and paper…

Chicago White Sox owner Jerry Reinsdorf has refused to honor John Cusack’s request for playoff tickets because Cusack has been a rather vocal Cubs fan.

I don’t always need a “witty” caper, do I? I just find it amusing…

Here’s a new slur to bandy about: Wahoo Cornelius.

Have fun. Craft your own “witty” caper.

I think the plural would be “Wahooes Cornelius,” by the way.


DAILY LIMERICK 10/14/2005:

So subway threat came out a hoax--

so how’d New York’s mayor get coaxed?

He’s proven susceptible

deeming acceptable

“research” on “secondhand smoke.”


SLAPPIN' AND YAPPIN' 10/14/2005:

Prepare: Wednesday, October 19 is National Salisbury Steak Day!…

So now we have an iPod that can play television shows.

You know how I’ve often pointed out that we’ve reached a point in history, unlike any other, when new inventions sometimes actually make our lives worse?

Well, I’m gonna have to issue a retraction.

This innovation actually fights two major problems of modern man--the fact that we don’t watch enough television and the fact that we’re still walking around paying a sliver of attention to the real world around us…

First, there was the python in Florida that ate an alligator and then exploded because of it.

Now, another Old Folks State python crawled under a fence, ate a turkey and was then too fat to crawl out again.

Well, they ARE American pythons--but they are still only animals. Poor snakes have nobody to sue for their gluttony…




Weak Daze… Well, off the bat, they’re a bunch of cool guys, with a first class sense of humor. And their music?… Another guy, who saw them when I did, said they sounded like rock “on the verge of disco”--not that they sound disco at all, but I did agree with him that… Hmmm.

I suppose they have a bit of a ’70s rockin’ sound to them. But…well, an original rockin’ sound. As if they started up around that time, emulated the then-current hard rock and yet took it in an original direction or… Hmmm, indeed.

Just give ’em a listen to, why don’t ya’?


DAILY LIMERICK 10/15/2005:

A nympho in love tried to cope

by making it quick--she eloped.

But at Vegas altar

she threw up her halter

and pearl necklaced the Best Man’s rope.


SLAPPIN' AND YAPPIN' 10/15/2005:

Prepare: Wednesday, October 19 is National Salisbury Steak Day!…

A lesson, if you will, or even if you won’t, on S&Y’s wild ambiguity concerning life and the Human Race, Slapper Yapper Grasshoppers:

Now Gloria Estefan has a children’s book.

Can’t you celebrities (and “celebrities”) just stick to rehab, or the Kabala, or playing Musical Marriages, or…

However, it appears that sack-o‘-shit-with-legs Paris Hilton’s “The Simple Life” is no longer in the regular Fox lineup.  It may be back, but at least The Bell tolls in the distance now, at, oh, about Minute Nineteen…

See? From no hope for humanity, to Great Hope for Humanity.

An enigma, wrapped up in a riddle, deep fried with a conundrum--and served with a side order of Extra Cheezy Saturday!


DAILY LIMERICK 10/16/2005:

New trend, which of world we need rid--

celebs' books, a’written for kids.

Wish damn flaky twits

with rehab would stick

as stars have historically did.


SLAPPIN' AND YAPPIN' 10/16/2005:

Prepare: This Wednesday, October 19 is National Salisbury Steak Day!…

As a form of artist, I feel a bit perturbed at the government and such embracing The Arts.

For instance, Arts Education is all the rage. I think it’s a great phenomenon, for the most part but… It’s just, well… I smell conspiracy theory. The Arts, it seems, are just too damn delightful to everyone and… Well, it’s eerie.

Arts month this, that-kinda-artist week that… You know, government is a major entity that those in the arts are to help keep “in check.” But the government, on all levels, in offering funding to so many arts organizations, which are predominantly nonprofit and thus at the mercy of government organizations in many cases, practically speaking, and… Hmm.

In a way, you can argue that government, and also the foundations of many big corporations, has undue sway over artists at a pivotal point in their development--as children, through the whole Arts Education thing.

Then again, and perhaps this is part of The Plan, most kids who get into the arts will largely ignore them upon adulthood.

Kinda like soccer…

Apparently, Madonna, now with child, or is it children?… Anyway, Madonna has saw fit to announce, and some “finer” media outlet has saw fit to report, that she doesn’t allow newspapers and magazines into her house. Oh, they have TV, but that only shows movies.

Most parents would consider doing just the opposite.

Then again, unlike Madonna, most children are one day slated to enter the real world.




(Touching in some manner, anyway)

TODAY'S EDITION: Breakin’ up with Larry Gibson

Larry Gibson was a friend of mine in junior high and high school. (Real names are used to protect nobody.)

Interesting side note on Larry--once, in college, I had a dream in which I accused somebody of “pulling a Larry Gibson.” I wasn’t entirely sure what that meant at the time and still don’t--although, in knowing him well, I suppose “pulling a Larry Gibson” could mean a number of things, given the dream context and all, the meaning was, and still is, a mystery.

Larry was…well, talkative, let’s say. And he had a propensity for telling stories. Tall tales, I suppose you’d call ’em. I don’t believe I ever caught him in a lie red-handed, but his stories were hard to believe. He’d grown up in the Southern U.S., and had tales of being shot at by farmers for stealin’ melons, bein’ chased by “black racer” snakes down at the swimmin’ hole--stuff like that.

At one point, I was so fed up with Larry’s shenanigans that I decided I’d “break up” with him. A bizarre enough situation, but I saw fit to make it even stranger.

I didn’t look forward to having “the talk” with Larry. So, to ease my nerves a bit, I plotted out, on paper, all the points I wanted to make and then made an audio cassette tape of my spiel. I then called Larry and played the tape.

Larry called back soon after and… Well, I wimped out a bit and “reunited” with him.

We were never quite as close after that, however.

So perhaps the audio “break-up” actually served its purpose.






TODAY'S POEM: Slippery cake

The ocean waves are wearing party hats,

pink and green cones recreating the sunrise.

The sea offers up celebratory songs

from its own selection of crashing geometry.

On the road, some passengers locked in their cars

are overcome. They swing back their doors.

Jumping out of metal shells on the coastal highway,

longing to taste the slippery cake of the surf,

they inhale the salt sewn into the air,

and plunge to the water looking serene.

[If you'd like to physically thank or berate the poet, e-mail him at b_squirrel@hotmail.com. He won't bite--although he may chew a bit.]


DAILY LIMERICK 10/17/2005:

Iraq tries to placate its Sunnis

with constitution they fine tune-y.

Though rad’cal Islam

will trump with iron hand

so they can oppress all their poon-y.


SLAPPIN' AND YAPPIN' 10/17/2005:

Prepare: This Wednesday, October 19 is National Salisbury Steak Day!…

Some conservatives believe the TV show “Commander in Chief,” in which Geena Davis portrays a female U.S. president, is Hillary Clinton propaganda.

In fact, an organization called Americans for Rice, which is seeking to draft Condeleeza to run against Hillary, who is not even officially running, bought commercial time during the show in the early primary state of Iowa.

This completely hypothetical scenario is for an election set to occur in 2008.

Damn, these Republicans sure are unduly concerned with events in the World of Make Believe, aren’t they?…

Condi, by the way, makes no secret of the fact that she would like to be Commissioner of the NFL after her stint in the Bush Admin.

And then, if I may make my own foray into hypothetical projection, upon being slighted by MLB, the NFL will attack the NHL…

What the hell’s with the marketing phrase, “Mountain Fresh”? Fabric softeners, air fresheners, laundry detergents… I would think that mountains smell like very little, at least comparatively, considering there tends to be fewer species and such up in those parts.

Actually, there tend to be hippies in those mountain nooks, I’ve heard.

Which would make “Mountain Fresh” crappy marketing, indeed.



By David Sher

TODAY'S HAIKU: Dorothy’s Friends Haiku

Woodsman wants a heart.

Scarecrow, brains.  Lion, courage.

What does Toto want?

[If you'd like to contact the Haiku Doctor, e-mail him at davew9lya@juno.com.]


DAILY LIMERICK 10/18/2005:

Condi dreams to run NFL

so if baseball’s steroid prob swells--

ride public fear flame

and trump up some claims

so it can invade NHL.


SLAPPIN' AND YAPPIN' 10/18/2005:

Prepare: Tomorrow, October 19th, is National Salisbury Steak Day!…

Speaking of…or perhaps it’s more appropriate to say Limericking of major league sports, the NBA is instituting a dress code for its players. The code is relevant when, for instance, they are traveling on the NBA’s dime.

This is, of course, meant to improve the NBA’s image.

And I don’t know about you, but I feel much better about being shot and/or sexually assaulted by a guy in a nice suit…

In the town of Linz, Austria, the Hotel Cortisan has decided to enact a dog-friendly policy--while at the same time prohibiting children under 12 years of age.

This, of course, is causing hubbub.

But I must admit that, aside from the ball-sniffin’ thing, people’s dogs generally have much better manners than their children these days…

This isn’t the first time this has happened.

Today, I left the mini-grocery store around the corner, where I go on a weekly basis to carry the heavier stuff I’d rather not carry on the bus from the full-blown grocery store farther up the street (laundry detergent, cans of tomato juice, etc.)--and I was greeted by a man asking for change.

I occasionally do give a handout, but I’m not gonna go into my attitude toward beggars again here--S&Y has done that more than once before (see the ’Chives, Slapper Yapper Grasshoppers).

Anyway, I come out of the Osco carrying three or four bags of heavy crap, struggling and huffin’ my way across the parking lot and am greeted by some guy with, “Got some spare change?”

Oh, sure, let me just drop all these bags I’ve just arranged in each hand for maximum ease of carrying, perhaps busting open the gallon of milk I just bought, so I can contribute, despite the fact that I’m working two part-time jobs with no benefits and… Oops! Getting off track here.

So I think what we need is a big campaign to promote the basic tenets of Begging Etiquette. It could spotlight rules like, oh, back off after the first “no,” feel free to ask for a smoke but not a few unsanitary puffs off a cigar, those unwilling to shell out today might do so tomorrow--so don’t insult them, etc.

Why, the only thing standing in the way of such a campaign is…er, perhaps the fact that there are probably better ways to spend the little money society affords to help the homeless and near-homeless.

So consider this a moot nugget, which I might have stricken had it not lead to the term “moot nugget,” which sounds dirty, or appealing in some way to me…

Slapper Yapper Grasshoppers have noted the evolution of my attitudes toward the Cell Phone Question over the years. Ridiculously long story short: Started out passionately hating them, began to sympathize as I saw government jump into yet another area they have no business in (banning cell phones in theaters via laws rather than free market) and, finally, am at a point where I’m considering purchasing one in the indefinitely semi-near future.

Well today, while waiting for a bus, I was inconvenienced by some chowderhead on his cell, pacing back and forth, paying virtually no attention to the real world around him, blathering extra loud about his “cool” plan to “sue the bastards” and almost running into me on a couple occasions.

I naturally cursed him, at least inside my head. “Cumberpunch!” “Bone Lapper!” SLGs know the spiel.

Then, as I practiced my typical multi-tasking in reading the newspaper as I boarded the bus, I bumped into the guy.

Touche, one might comment.

Although I will say, in my defense, that there’s no audio annoyance inherent in the newspaper-reading distraction.


DAILY LIMERICK 10/19/2005:

It’s National Salisbury Steak Day

so don’t celebrate in a fake way--

have Salisbury steaks

but don’t you forsake

the noodles all buttered--all make way!


SLAPPIN' AND YAPPIN' 10/19/2005:

Celebrate! It’s National Salisbury Steak Day!…

You want S&Y nuggets on National Salisbury Steak Day?

Please--proceed to the Food Section!…



TODAY'S EDITION: National Salisbury Steak Day

Yes, it is finally the first National Salisbury Steak Day. A time for those who enjoy their Salisbury steaks with buttered noodles, as God intended it to be served, to come together with their (wrong-headed) mashed potato and corn lovin’ brothers and sisters and, well… Eat Salisbury steak.



DAILY LIMERICK 10/20/2005:

Austrian hotel makes a bid

for dog owners, yet it forbids

children under twelve

these days, knowing well,

dogs have better manners than kids.


SLAPPIN' AND YAPPIN' 10/20/2005:

Ah, the Memories: Yesterday WAS National Salisbury Steak Day!…

So Sen. Ted Kennedy leapt into action to try saving fishermen stranded at sea off Hyannis, Mass.

Oh, there are jokes to be had, here!

But I don’t think the Partisan Police will let me get away with them, lacking my Conservative Card…

Speaking of jokes to be had, BET’s running a show called “The 25 Hottest Women.”

And… Don’t you wonder if they’re all white?

Sorry. Can only pass up one tasteless joke per day…

Slapper Yapper Grasshoppers know that S&Y has oft lamented that human evolution seems to work backward--that is, when we truly were in danger of dying out as a race, Medicine and Science were seriously lacking and, now that we’re amid an Overpopulation Explosion, we keep advancing and extended life spans.

But lately, I’ve set aside the strides of the Scientific Community to note more closely the knowledge of the average schmoe. The increase in TV watching. The downward spiral of TV (and now Internet, satellite, etc.) programming. New technology, such as the iPod, bringing us even more hours of TV viewing and other mindless diversions.

And I think: Perhaps there IS a seemingly needed De-Evolution occurring…

Speaking of De-Evolution, with all the hubbub surrounding the Powerball lottery--the unofficial preferred “investment strategy” of the average American:

What’s the practical difference between $10 and $100 million to the typical winner?

Bankruptcy still looms in their future, and with the increase in money flushing…er, ticket buying actually bring the chances of winning to something more like getting hit by lightning 1.5 times…

The stats are in:

Stats are in on the hip, new weight-loss method, stomach reduction surgery:

One-in-five patients end up hospitalized due to mishaps with the procedure and one-in-twenty actually die.

Still, Americans generally aren’t up for doing anything rash about obesity--like exercising or perhaps even practicing that gruesome self-discipline stuff…

And while a whole bunch of lawyers are salivating over the operation's mishap, as is the case with inserting plastic globules known as "breast implants" into one's

body, who could've possibly imagined folding one's insides in half could be anything but harmless?...

A poem recently was up for auction, written by Marilyn Monroe to JFK.

I’m generally not a fan of celebrity poetry, or celebrity literature of any kind really, but I must say that MM’s actually, competently kept its intended rhythm. And that’s altogether rare, whether at open mikes or in the realm of literature, the latter of which is basically just another Star Crazy realm at this point.

May the Rosie O’Donnells of the world take note…



In reaction to yesterday’s widely trumpeted National Salisbury Steak Day comes this missive:

> i gotta tell ya', they have great, tender & juicy salsbury steak at mannys on

> jefferson at roosevelt. it is a bit pricey but i've honestly never had better.



So, when in Chicago, check out Manny’s, I suppose. There are only approximately 364 days left until the next National Salisbury Steak Day, you know.

So I guess we here at DL/S&Y are following the regular Christmas marketing model, at this point…


DAILY LIMERICK 10/21/2005:

“Arts Ed this,” “Arts Ed that”--those fuckers

are locking The Arts in kids’ lockers.

Though gov. and corp. funding

is nice, it’s now plunging

The Arts to pure kids realm--like soccer.


SLAPPIN' AND YAPPIN' 10/21/2005:

Wow! They said it wouldn’t be done, but the national media is now over-covering a missing person/possible abduction case that involves a black person--in this case, Illinois State University’s Olamide Adeyooye.

However, this is nonetheless not a sign of increasing sensitivity toward minority causes by The Media or anything. Adeyooye--whom I’d write a Limerick about possibly, if I could remember her name’s proper pronunciation--just happens to look hotter than shit, even though she’s merely BLACK and abducted!…

Starbucks has this campaign called “The Way I See It,” whereby they place famous quotes on their cups. I guess members of the public are encouraged to send in suggested quotes.

I have one: “A fool and his money are soon parted.”




Check out The Elefents. They are no slouches when it comes to the art of rockin’, so salute them after the fact--but most impressive and unique about them is the fact that their vocal harmonies are complex, layered and just plain delightful.


DAILY LIMERICK 10/22/2005:

World Series--my town’s where it’s at!

The White Sox kick ass--and that’s that!

Wins bring sex life boostin’

so you fans of Houston

had better choke up on your bats!


SLAPPIN' AND YAPPIN' 10/22/2005:

Saw a commercial the other night, on muted television at a bar where I was hosting a show. The ad was shilling a concert: Cyndi Lauper at the Taj Mahal.

Upon the next showing of the logo, I happened to also note the qualifier, “Trump” Taj Mahal.

And my Doom-dar for the human race went back to acceptable levels…


DAILY LIMERICK 10/23/2005:

The stomach reduction procedure

'mong weight-loss schemes, now is a leader.

Though stats show there’s danger

don't seem as insane-r

as curbing our glutt’ny or leisure.


SLAPPIN' AND YAPPIN' 10/23/2005:

So Congress has passed a bill disallowing lawsuits holding the firearms industry liable for deaths caused by guns doing what they’re supposed to do.

Although I have mixed feelings about guns and the Second Amendment, I must issue at least a half-hurrah.

A halfer because what I’d really like to see here is consistency in the legal system.

And thus I hope, perhaps in vain, that we might also shield manufacturers from liability for making food that does what people want it to do, tobacco that does exactly what the consumer wants it to do…




(Touching in some manner, anyway)

TODAY'S EDITION: Becoming the Happy Curmudgeon

I wasn’t always a curmudgeon.

Okay, I always had a bit of the curmudgeon gene, or whatever, in me, I suppose, as I’ve never been the most social of people. As I child I was always shy and I often preferred reading and writing to the company of actual humans, but I was optimistic, being just a shaver and all.

When high school and my first attempt at college hit, my lack of social skills started to take on a dark tone. I started placing blame for my oft lonely existence--on society, on the ways of women and, mostly, on myself. Then, of course, came the drinking problem. And realizations like, oh, “the CD’s been invented; what’s the point of concerts?” Lovecraftian thinking, in a way, and thus I became a full-blown curmudgeon.

Recently, however, I’ve changed in a few, key ways. I’ve become a bit more social. More importantly, I’ve learned to accept myself as a shy person, writerly and introverted and--while I still may espouse some Lovecraftian philosophies--I've decided on the attitude that, “The world’s fucked-up, people are fucked up, I’m fucked up, but who cares? Enjoy it all you can!”

Thus I am now the seeming contradiction in terms that is the Happy Curmudgeon.

I’d apologize for being sappy but, chances are, as you’re a human reading this, you’re probably a big nutloaf anyway.






TODAY'S POEM: Questioning the musically minded

Casual "yous," strung up garland,

tangled communication, ever warm you,

out on the stoop with coffee

and secrets and an unglimpsed past

rushing forward, a mystery in the snow

begging to outline itself in the headlights,

writing songs to the winter cold, the

wind lifts the sheets from your hand.

Will this wind tear your symphonies up?

First movement falls slowly. Second to the shore.

Third down the road. Fourth, to me.

[If you'd like to physically thank or berate the poet, e-mail him at b_squirrel@hotmail.com. He won't bite--although he may chew a bit.]


DAILY LIMERICK 10/24/2005:

Blath'rings of "Intell'gent Design"

have us going backward in time

to '50s Scopes trial--

perhaps Nature's style

has us de-evolving in mind.


SLAPPIN' AND YAPPIN' 10/24/2005:

It's United Nations Day! Celebrate by, er, making a half-ass weapons inspection of your neighbors or something!...

This just in:

Mariah Carey still exists!

I swear it's true! I saw her in some sorta celebrity fluff crap!

Do with the info what you will...



By David Sher

TODAY'S HAIKU: Sanitary Haiku

The two soaps found in

The phone company washroom

Are both Dial and Tone

[If you'd like to contact the Haiku Doctor, e-mail him at davew9lya@juno.com.]



> For Stephan I burned a CD

> He asked me to leave it with thee

> But when I phone called you

> Your roomate had no clue

> Bout when you'd be in...c'est la vie

Ah. A wise guy. Not only sends in a limerick to make an attempt at showing me up, but throws some French in, on top of it.

Or is it still...throws in some FREEDOM?


DAILY LIMERICK 10/25/2005:

A quote promo, Starbucks has started,

on cups 'round which yuppies have carted.

Got one to contribute

(quite relevant, to boot):

"A fool and his money?--Soon parted!"


SLAPPIN' AND YAPPIN' 10/25/2005:

North Korea has announced that it has a program in place to combat bird flu.

Next, they'll announce that they have no such program.

Then, that they do, in fact, have such a program.

Then, that they don't--but they'll start one up if given a generator...

Okay, a question for these religious whacktoasts vehemently opposing every instance of "interfering with God's intended plan" as it relates to sex and childbirth, from abortion on down to birth control and sex ed.:

Isn't popping fertility drugs and pushing out sest- and septuplets "interfering"?

So, where are the protests, bombings, what have yous?...



Yesterday, we published a letter from some nutcluster in limerick form that was, for all practical intents and purposes to the average Slapper Yapper Grasshopper, lucid as a wounded loon.

So today the logflogger rants and raves for a bit, then gets to the pith of his malcontent with this:

> I see however that you did not use my limerick for daily limerick

> today...bummer.

As best as I can make of the ramblings, he's saying I should've made his literary spoojrot THE Limerick for the day.

We have some standards here, punchloaf.

You know, some kooks fire off letters and successfully get their crackpot gibberish in big newspaper and magazines.

You, my friend, are a true crackpot among crackpots.


DAILY LIMERICK 10/26/2005:

Since Christ Freaks are intent on stopping

abortion and such 'cause God's hopping

mad we interfere

with birth, they should steer

some rage for the fert drugs we're popping.


SLAPPIN' AND YAPPIN' 10/26/2005:

Ill. State Rep. Mary Flowers has introduced a bill requiring school children to wash their hands after using the bathroom.

Again, I was just kidding with pegging a legislative trend toward "Big Mother," originally.

Next up: Federally mandated five servings of fruits and vegetables per day...



TODAY'S EDITION: Mayo AND Dressing???

A couple weeks ago, I went slightly out of the way on my path to work to visit my favorite local submarine sandwich shop, Mr. Submarine, to find that Mr. Sub was replaced by a Jimmy John's, a chain that might be local and might be national (not sure).

My ire would only increase from that point.

So I ordered a far-more-expensive-than-good-ol'-Mr. Sub sandwich, allegedly their "Big One," and, upon eating it later, was dismayed. For a number of reasons, really, but most perturbing was the fact that they put mayonnaise AND Italian dressing on it.

You put one OR the other, ya' ass bastards! Perhaps you mix mayo and mustard but... Yeesh. I... I don't know what else to say on the topic.

And, really, there is nothing more to say. It's like having to tell someone not to smoke around gas or something...



This knucklepump chimes in about recent musings on Starbucks with this:

> starbucks is the smartest idea to get money from the dumbest people. what fools!

> (i do like the dark chocolate covered graham ceackers for $1.70 that used to be

> $0.99)

I've ranted about Starbucks from some many angles--calculated angles, I might add--that it's hard for me to add anything new to this discussion. I will admit to gladly paying Starbucks prices for a cup at many times in the past, however.

Those drinks DID have liquor in them, though...


DAILY LIMERICK 10/27/2005:

Am Ex has financial advisers

(though "'Mer'can Excess" name seems wiser)--

what?... Tell you it best

t'spend fascist interest

on shares of Time-Warner and Pfizer?


SLAPPIN' AND YAPPIN' 10/27/2005:

White Sox Kick Champion Ass!...

The European Union's European Court of Justice has ruled that... No nation in Europe can make feta cheese, and authentically call it "feta cheese," except for Greece.

And I thought WE had important matters before our high court, but stuff like abortion, assisted suicide and anti-trust media laws just reinforce the "superficial American" stereotype next to cheese legitimacy...

A "Letter to the Editor" in yesterday's Chicago Sun-Times by one Scott Mahlebashian argues that television should get some of the credit for recent drops in violent crime.

Okay Scott! Now that you've covered TV, it's time to brainstorm just how obesity is actually a boon to society...

Sat down next to a fairly attractive lady on the train today and ripped a fart. A full-on, honkin', louder-than-hell air biscuit.

Of course, in such a situation, etiquette demanded that I... Well, to hell with what etiquette demanded. I couldn't stop laughing. In fact, I was in a bit of a funk at the time and the incident made my freakin' day...



If you receive unsolicited (aka "junk") mail--and this goes for spam, too--and in glancing you happen to note that an offer or whatever truly seems like a good deal... Don't go for it.

Well, perhaps go for it, but do it independent of the obnoxious marketing--do not use any enclosed return materials, follow links, etc. Look it up independently and set it up. Whatever you do, don't mention the marketing as a factor in your decision.

You don't wanna encourage 'em...


DAILY LIMERICK 10/28/2005:

The Bush plan proceeds right on track;

2,0000 now dead in Iraq!

And all to ensure

Mid East one more pure

anti-U.S. state, Muslim-whacked!


SLAPPIN' AND YAPPIN' 10/28/2005:

White Sox Kick Champion Ass!...

On the heels of the news peg behind today's Limerick, Iran's president--with the long, hard-to-pronounce name you'd skip over if I typed anyway--says Israel needs to be "wiped off the map."

Hmm. Isn't he scared? Isn't that pretty much what Saddam said before... Hmm.

Saddam didn't say anything like that. In fact, quite the contrary.

Hmm, hmm, hmm--a thousand times hmm...

The city of Santa Cruz, California, is creating an Office of Compassionate Use to distribute medical marijuana.

Well, good luck finding a reliable pot "distributor"...



TODAY'S EDITION: The Peasants (actually just Pete of The Peasants)

I'm only guessing, albeit with an educated guess, that The Peasants are a fine band, because Pete of The Peasants, whom I actually saw, kicked some ass.

Anyway, Pete cranked out some acoustic fare, with a political bent, that actually reminded me of Roger Waters, one of my favorite musicians of all time. It was a little more rockin' than Floyd-y stuff but... He managed to rip Bush, which is no hallmark of originality lately--but he did it in an original way, through thoughtful lyrics and, perhaps most importantly, in a manner that didn't make me wish I LIKED Bush. (What remains of "protest music" today is simply THAT hella-lame.)

So check out The Peasants. Or at least Pete, if you can figure out how to do that...


DAILY LIMERICK 10/29/2005:

A fella from Niagara Falls

got crafty in the bathroom stall

and painted his unit;

his girl asked, "Why do it?"

and he said, "They're masquerade balls."


SLAPPIN' AND YAPPIN' 10/29/2005:

White Sox Kick Champion Ass!...

It has comes to my attention that there is a TV program and/or movie entitled, "Married People, Single Sex."

Geez. With all the perks they're already getting, do we really need to be glorifying CEOs?...


DAILY LIMERICK 10/30/2005:

Dick Cheney's aide's busted in leak

of Val Plame's name--that "Scooter" geek...

It gets complicated;

brief FYI, stated:

Pushed Iraq War myths on the sneak.


SLAPPIN' AND YAPPIN' 10/30/2005:

White Sox Kick Champion Ass!...

Some headlines from Friday's newspaper:

"House Dems Vote to Sink Riverboat Gambling"; "British Bid to Ban Smoking Leaves Pub Owners Fuming"

Here's one I didn't see: "Laughter, dirty thoughts, smiling still socially accepted--for now"...

One million Iranians took to the streets for a protest Friday.

On a "Death to Israel" theme.

Still some kinks to be worked out, but they're trying to get in on this Diversity thing that's all the rage...

Since I suppose you're now craving some news of hope, here's another headline:

"Jay-Z, Nas End Their War of Words"

It ain't the Mid East, but we'll celebrate newfound peace where we get it...

Oh, and as Celebrity Tragedy is often a feel-good, Brooke Shields is now being referred to in headlines as "'Suddenly Susan' actress"?...

Sylvester Stallone, on the heels of announcing yet another "Rocky" movie, is now planning a "Rambo IV."

Even more sinister, he's planning to direct the movie, "Poe."

Originally, he actually wanted to PLAY Edgar Allan Poe, so I guess this is an improvement, but nonetheless: What's wrong with a red sports car and a fake-titted, blonde college girl?...

Michael Jackson is reportedly putting Neverland up for sale.

Although it's basically just an amusement part, it's a bit...well, tainted, shall we say?

So who would be interested in purchasing such a little boy magnet? Perhaps...the Catholic Church?...

Oh, and George Takei, of Star Trek fame, has come out of the closet.

Pink alert, Mr. Sulu!...




(Touching in some manner, anyway)


As today is All Hallow's Eve Eve, you could say, I find myself thinking about Halloweens passed.

Oh, I know, it isn't like CHRISTMAS or anything, but, like many, I have been known to make a big, full-on honkin' deal out of Halloween. Perhaps because it's the first good excuse to party after the school year begins--Labor Day just not seeming festive enough, perhaps because it's so early and one needs to be in the year-round workforce a while to fully appreciate it.

In recent times, this time of year has taken on it's own special meaning, personally speaking, as a time of rebirth. I emerged from booze rehab on a Halloween thirteen years ago--more screwed up than when I went in, true, but... Ahem. And I started "coming around again" during the season about a year ago, too, a few months after my marital-separation-en-route-to-divorce went down.

But I'm starting to digress more than usual.

I suppose there were only two years--my first years away from home, allegedly attending college--when I truly "did up" 'Ween (as we called it, pre-the band). The first year of Ween Fest, I was in a college dorm, so a full-blown party wasn't exactly an option--although we managed to turn some prep boys into Metallica fans (before few but pure metalheads would even give 'em a listen), blast apart our doob-smoking-Jack-drinkin' jack-o-lantern ("Dude") with an M-80 and liquor up my visiting high school friend enough that he picked up and almost ate our tarantula.

For "Ween Fest II," we threw a helluva bash in the apartment we were renting. I was even silly enough to post signs around campus advertising it with phrases like "inhale beer," so our place was mostly packed with people we didn't even know. Somebody put a hole in the wall with a chair. I was blue-balled, in a cold and calculating manner. A group of people wearing lampshades on their heads took unauthorized cover charges (we were broke, needed to pay for the keg and had a lousy system of covering the door).

And... Oh? The lampshades? Our campus-wide signs promised free admission to anybody wearing one and, against our predictions, quite a few cheapskates showed up in them.

The were many costumes worn by attendees--my Blue-ball source was a French maid--but none of us three residents bothered. Nonetheless, the spirit of the season reared its head in a big way, thanks to a misunderstanding helped along by psychedelic drug use.

I opened the bathroom door to find my attending friend from high school--the same guy who tried eating Mookie Crowley, the tarantula, at Ween Fest I--doubled over on the floor. The floor, sink, mirror and some of the walls all bore the stains of a reddish liquid.

I shrieked--in fact, it may be the only blood-curdling scream I've uttered as an adult. But I noticed that my friend was still alive, moving a bit...in fact, he started giggling.

And then I noticed the empty, scrunched up tube of "vampire blood" I'd barely remembered buying for the bash.

Although this year I wore a cheezy late-Elvis jumpsuit at a show I hosted for 'Ween, I've generally all but ignored the holiday since the Ween Fests. (Well, I always buy a bunch of themed candy, of course). Perhaps it's because I know I'll likely never top those two years--and, at this point in life, am not interested in most of the activity that "topping" would entail.

For the last Ween Fest had everything--lampshade wearers, psychedelia, costumes, a damn good scare.

Could've done without the blue-ball, though...






TODAY'S POEM: Exhausted in love

Richard sucked the smoke from

Becky's lungs. His breath being

much longer than hers, she hicupped

the last of the wisps and canted over,

exhausted, overcome and in love.

A tear oozed from her eye and made

a temporary stain on the pillowcase.

She heard him above her, the shuddering

breath with which he exhaled the drug.

He fell slow motion forward,

laying quietly against her, his cheek

pressing into her shoulder. She could

feel his eye produce its own tear,

which was absorbed into the cotton

of her shirt. She wished bravely

that she were naked, and that his tear

had rolled down her back instead.

[If you'd like to physically thank or berate the poet, e-mail him at b_squirrel@hotmail.com. He won't bite--although he may chew a bit.]


DAILY LIMERICK 10/31/2005:

For sale: Neverland, say town criers.

Perfect for some rich group that hires

big lovers of boys--

lures with rides and toys!--

the Cath'lic Church could be a buyer!


SLAPPIN' AND YAPPIN' 10/31/2005:

Wishing you a haunted (and happy) Halloween!--God curse us, every one!...

White Sox Kick Champion Ass!...

Okay, okay. Time to 'fess up.

I did in fact say, at one point, just before the playoffs, that the White Sox would choke in the end and...well, you may have noticed that they didn't.

Just thought I'd admit my mistake. Which further messes up any chance I ever had of holding a public office...



By David Sher

TODAY'S HAIKU: Preventive Medicine Haiku

A doctor a day

Keeps the apples away, or

Is it vice versa?

[If you'd like to contact the Haiku Doctor, e-mail him at davew9lya@juno.com.]


Send your own Letter to the Idiot and/or e-mail Sloop! (And attach sexy pics, if you insist. Sigh.)


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